What is Love, Anyway?
by Simahoyo
Summary: Everyone is worried about Maura, but Jane decides to do something, even though she can't leave the stakeout she is on. Features Constance Isles, Maura and Angela Rizzoli. Chapter 4 is Rizziles and rated T for Jane's swearing.
1. Chapter 1

What is Love Anyway?

By Simahoyo

**(Everyone is worried about Maura, but Jane decides to do something, even though she can't leave the stakeout she is on.)**

Constance Isles was exhausted. She was happy to done with the hospital, and home again, but she had 2 more hours before she could have another pain pill, and the dull ache had turned itself up to a throbbing pain, which made her wince with each one. If she had not learned how to grin and bear disagreeable things over the years, she would have given into the throbbing. Her husband had been very sweet about setting her up in their most comfortable chair, and surrounding her with everything she would need without having to use the walker she had named, "Hobbes", after a favorite philosopher. But, he had run out to get her prescriptions and some _poutine_ to comfort her spirit. It was then the cell phone rang. When she looked at it, she wrinkled her brow. Jane Rizzoli?

She shrugged one shoulder, and answered the phone.

"Hello, Jane. How are you?"

"Worried about Maura. Something happened, she won't answer her phone, or the door. She's been very upset lately, and I'm pretty sure she needs you."

"What has been going on?". She heartrate started to speed up.

"I promised not to tell you. I'm sorry. She'd never speak to me again if I did. Although I'd almost prefer it if I knew she was okay."

"I've got to get there. I can call a cab, but I can barely walk. Sometimes, she turns off the phone and locks herself in her bedroom...oh dear, I though we had finished with this. I have a key. Could you meet me?"

"I want to, but I'm on a stake out. I can't leave. Is there someone...Mr. Isles?"

"He will be out for 2 hours. I'll find a way. Jane. My daughter is not the only stubborn member of this family. Don't worry."

Now _she_ was worried. Constance phoned the cab company, explained the situation, and asked them to hurry. It arrived within 15 minutes. She had left a note, and with the help of the cabbie, got to the cab, and inside. It was another half hour before she pulled up to Maura's place, and the cabbie helped her to the front door. She paid him, and used her cell to phone Maura. No answer. Maura's emotional storms had once shaken the entire Beacon Hill house, but she had calmed down considerably as she matured. This was an unpleasant trip to the past. Constance managed to get the door open without sounding the alarm and frightening the neighbors. She worked her way over the threshold.

"Maura? Cheri? It's Mother!", she called. It was silent. In the past, she would have run up the stairs to the bedroom. Now the stairs loomed like the Matterhorn. She stared at them, remembering that she would let nothing defeat her. She used, "Hobbes" to get to the bottom of the stairs, turned it around, and sat on the bottom step. Using all her strength, Constance could just pull herself up to the next step. Then, hanging on to the step, she pulled her legs up behind her. Then she stopped to catch her breath. Using this system, she managed to get halfway up the stairs. Now, if she fell, she was in real danger. She rested as long as she dared, gritted her teeth and started up the next step. Finally, at the top, she crawled along the hall until she reached Maura's bedroom door. Her brain flashed back to the many times she had knocked on her daughter's door. She used the same method again, knocking. And heard the same words as in the past.

"Go away!"

"Maura Evangeline Isles, this is you mother."

Maura's voice sounded groggy and thick. "Mom?"

"Open the door this instant, young lady."

She waited. She could hear Maura crossing the room, and the door inched open. A look of horror crossed her face. "Mom! How did you get here? Are you hurt? Oh my God, let me help you."

Constance felt her daughter's hands pulling her up, helping her into the room, and seating her on the bed.

"I'm the most selfish..."

"Stop. I'm here because I love you and I was worried. Everyone has been trying to reach you." She put her fingers under Maura's chin and lifted her face. You've been crying–quite a bit. What happened?"

Maura burst into tears again. Constance held her in her arms and let her cry. In time her daughter would confide in her. For now, she just had to be there for her. She guessed she was not _too bad_ at the mother thing.


	2. Chapter 2

What is Love, Anyway Chapter 2

by Simahoyo

**(So, I extended this because I got too many hints.)**

As Constance held Maura, and felt the hot tears on her shoulder, the gulping sobs, and noticed hives forming on her neck. This child had always been a special challenge. But what a reward.

Constance thought back to Maura's toddler stage. Toddler, that girl had never toddled. She ran, and her curiosity lead her into everything. Constance recalled the running, pivoting, basketball guard positions she had developed to protect that child from getting into, out of or off from everything in the house. That was when they had hired the first two nannies. It took the three of them to keep up with her. And Maura was quiet unless she wanted something. It was amazing the set of lungs on her. She could be heard all over the house, and it was a big house.

It was quite by accident that Constance had discovered something that would keep Maura quiet and fascinated for hours. This started her cooking lessons, standing on a stool, covered with flour and making whatever her little hands could form. They ate some strange, burned and salty creations, but she remembered the smile on her little cook's face. She gave grown up Maura a gentle kiss. Maura stopped gulping, and was breathing more normally.

They both could be monumentally stubborn, and their first big face-off was over sending Maura to France for boarding school. They had hired guards to protect their daughter, and strange men were suddenly seen loitering around the grounds. She was only ten, and their worried parental talks had taken up several nights. Neither wanted to send her away. It actually hurt their hearts.

But the danger from Patrick's business rivals loomed and they broke the news to Maura over supper.

Maura's eyes flashed. "No! I don't want to go away!" She threw her sliver ware down and glared at them. When Constance opened her mouth to speak, Maura jumped to her feet, and ran to her room. The door slammed and the sound echoed through the house.

Her father started to stand. "Take it easy, Benny Harbor. You're too soft, and she needs to go for her own safety."

She got up and went to Maura's bedroom door. "Maura Evangeline Isles. It's your mother."

Silence. She knocked.

"Go Away!". She was sure even the gardener out back heard that.

"Open the door this minute, young lady."

She heard reluctant footsteps. The door inched open.

"I still won't go."

"I have to explain some things to you, and first I have to take you out and show you how other people live. We have been very, very lucky. And there are people who want what we have. Let's go see what other people have."

She had taken Maura, and two large bodyguards, to a food bank, a worn-down and sad neighborhood, and to blocks of empty businesses. They visited a battered women's shelter, and the emergency room of a North End hospital. Maura had been too quiet, eyes huge. When they got back to the limousine, Maura spoke quietly.

"I never knew. Mama, what can I do to help them?"

"Honey, we do help. We have foundations to help, but there are too many who need help. Daddy gives people jobs, but he can't hire everyone. If you want to help, what would you do?"

"I would help those sick people get better. I would go to people who need doctors. I want to do that, Mama."

"You need school to be a doctor, Maura. Are you willing to get the best education in order to help those people?"

Now there was fire in her eyes. "Oh yes. I'll do it."

Constance noticed that Maura had stopped the tears. She usually needed a minute to compose herself before talking. Constance patted her back.

Maura's teen years were rocky. She was torn between what her mind was able to do, and where her emotions took her. She was usually three years younger that everyone in her class. She was so small, it was nearly impossible to find anything to fit her that she wanted to wear. She was in her closet, sorting through her clothes, and throwing them on her bad. Her face was stormy, and Constance knew what was coming if she didn't intervene right then. She walked into Maura's room, rapping lightly on the open door.

"What are you doing?"

Maura turned, hands on hips.

"Hating my clothes! I look like a little kid in them. And nothing fits that all my other friends are wearing."

"Well then, shouldn't we find you what you do like? I had planned to do this in a few years, but I believe it is time for a trip to Paris and Milan."

"What? To the fashion houses, Mom? Do you really mean it?" Maura had actually squeaked. She was clasping her hands together, and the smile on her face was most beautiful thing Constance had ever seen. This had started their wonderful adventure with designers, who fitted Maura's tiny frame perfectly–filling her with confidence where once she had only trepidation.

Now Maura looked up into her mother's eyes. She wiped away the remaining tears with her hand.

"I'm sorry. Why did you go through all that to come here?"

"Because I love you. Why else?"

Maura clutched Constance in a hug, then let go to look at her again, puzzled. "Who..."

"Jane. She was worried about you. Now tell me all about it."

Maura tensed. "You'll be mad."

" I'll get over it. I'm listening. Talk to me."

Maura gave her a frightened look, and started. "I did some research on my birth mother."

Constance felt jealousy shoot through her. She tamped it down. It would do neither of them any good.

"And I found her. But Jane got me to meet her, and I'm sorry I did it because..."

_(Was she mean to you? How dare she! No, let her tell you in her own way.)_

"She thought I died at birth, and she feels terrible about the whole thing, and I just couldn't..."

When Constance felt relief, she mentally kicked herself. (_This is not about you_.) She waited.

"Mom, I feel so bad about going behind your back. You saved my life and I shouldn't have..."

"Hush. _Je ne suis pas en colère. Veuillez, cher, continuer_."

"I don't understand why I can't stop crying. I'm an emotional wreak. I can't be around anyone. Am I having a breakdown?"

"When your grandparents died, it was so sudden, I missed them terribly. I was so young, and I didn't know how I was going to suddenly be an adult. I needed work, I needed to raise my little sister. And I didn't have the slightest idea of how I was going to do any of it. I'm not even sure how I wound up on the radio. I suspect they liked my voice. So, I worked. And I cried when I wasn't working. Some things hit us so hard that we need time to heal. You have had such a terrible few weeks. You need time to heal. Isn't that something you might have learned in Medical school?"

Maura gave her a tiny smile, but it slumped away.

"Bless you child, you have always been ten times harder on yourself than either of us ever were. We were amazed. A self-punishing child. Now listen to me", and Constance held Maura by the shoulders, looking into her eyes. "I have had you in my life for thirty eight years, and I thank my lucky stars for every one of them. So does your father. Your birth mother hasn't had any time to speak of with you. You are such a precious one, and she should learn to know you. Even if you never tell her who you are, give her the opportunity."

Maura's face lit up with joy, and she threw herself into Constance. The pain was worth it.

Her cell phone rang. She knew who it was without even looking. "Hi Benny Harbor."

"Hi, Quebec Rose. How is Maura?"

"Much better. I'll tell you all about it. Are you on the way?"

"Of course. Ten minutes. Ok?"

"Yes, I'll be waiting. Be ready for some weight lifting."

When he hung up, she punched in another number.

"Rizzoli".

"Thank you, Jane. She'll be fine. I appreciate your heads up. So, when do you plan to talk to my daughter. I know you have a lot to say to her."

There was dead silence on the other end. "What? We made up. "

Jane was as impossible as Maura. "You know exactly what I am referring to. I thought you prided yourself on being straightforward."

"Wow. You're no slouch at it. I'm waiting for the right moment."

"_Saisir le jour_."

"You know I don't speak French."

"You might be more familiar with the Latin, _Carpe deum_."

"Oh, that. I'll think about it. Thanks Mrs. Isles."

They ended the call, and Constance faced getting down the Matterhorn with her husband and daughter's help.

THE END


	3. Chapter 3

**What is Love, Anyway? Chapter 3**

**By Simahoyo**

Constance was feeling much better physically. She could walk, with the help of Hobbes, and the pain was manageable. Consequently, when Maura had invited her to dinner with Jane and Angela, she was happy to attend. She smiled at the meal Maura had prepared. She had come a long way from the burned, salty messes. As the others were cleaning up, both girl's cell phones went off, and they ran out to deal with the death of some poor soul. This left her alone with Angela.

"Whew. I'm finally off my feet." Angela plopped down of the sofa. Constance was already in the easy chair.

"While I'm trying to get _on_ my feet, so to speak. How is Maura? She's been so emotional lately...I'm worried about her."

Angela went straight into concerned mother mode. "She's had a rough time. I know she told you about finding her...other mother. It didn't go well."

Constance tensed, anticipating bad news. There was no social veneer between the two mothers. "How dare she? How could anyone not love Maura, she is the kindest, most giving..."

"She's a lovely young woman. But Hope has another daughter, one with serious kidney problems.

Maura even offered to donate a kidney–anonymously..."

"Of course." Maura had always been a generous soul.

"So the child is only 18 years old, and when she discovered Maura was her half sister, she went hysterical, had a screaming fit about not wanting Maura near her family, and that is how Hope discovered Maura was her daughter."

Constance closed her eyes against looming tears, breathed carefully to control her emotions, and still her shaking hands. When she opened her eyes, she could see Angela's understanding concern.

"Maura has suffered too much. I wish I had been a better mother." Even the words tasted bitter.

Angela's look turned knowing. "Isn't it funny how our kids remember things one way, and we do another. Janie and Frankie always remembered that I spoiled Tommy and that he got away with everything. Tommy nearly died a week after he was born. I had to keep an eye on him. His health was right on the edge for that first year. So, they thought I spoiled him."

"Maura remembers that it was her idea to go to boarding school in Europe. It was after she pitched a fit about it that she met a girl who had gone there, and changed her mind. She also recalls that I never held her on my lap when she was a child. The truth is, I literally couldn't keep up with her."

"Typical. Jane has a memory like an elephant, except everything she remembers seems to have happened in an alternate universe."

"Exactly. For example, that age when they climb everyone, like a jungle gym. Maura did that. Fortunately, we hired two nannies. However did you survive three children doing that?"

"They climbed my husband, their uncles, their aunts... Trees..."

"Furniture, trellises, and one memorable Christmas eve, out the window and up to the roof. Fortunately it had snowed, so she didn't break anything when she fell. I nearly had a heart attack."

"It sounds as if you were there a lot more than she remembers. What happened?"

Constance felt the heat as she blushed. "Fame. Suddenly people wanted to buy my art. My name was in newspapers. It turned my head. I regret to say that other than some monumental arguments, I rarely saw her. I missed so much with her." She felt the past diffuse and flow just past her fingertips.

Angela reached out to touch her hand. " Janie was so private, and erected these walls around herself. I wonder what I missed. She was always pushing me away. She still does."

"I suspect she wants to prove she's all grown up. But they never are to us."

Angela nodded enthusiastically. "I know. They may be adults, but they will always be my little kids. My obnoxious, wonderful little kids."

"I wonder how Maura would react if I tried to get her to sit on my lap now? Actually, I know she would gave me a minimum of three reasons why it would hurt me. Speaking of reasons or actually excuses. What are we going to do about those two?"

Angela looked shocked for a second, then beamed. "Oh, you noticed too? They are awfully obvious."

"As well as oblivious. Maura has taken to hinting. Maura never hints. She jumps right in. I actually pointed out to Jane that they should talk about it. Jane changed the subject, then put it off."

"My Janie sometimes requires a two by four between the eyes."

"Wouldn't that hurt?" Constance was having a Franglish moment.

"What I mean is she is as stubborn as a mule."

Oh, she always did have trouble with expressions. She was bilingual, but still not perfect in English. She could fake an English accent. With her education, she had replaced her lower class, French-Canadian accent to fit in. Harvard professors didn't sound like a poor kid from Quebec City. "So is Maura. Like mother, like daughter." That one she understood. Both mother and daughter were close to unmovable in an argument.

Angela was quiet for a second, then got an inspired look in her eyes. "When they are teenagers, they never listen to their parents. Instead they listen to other kid's parents. So, ..."

Constance knew immediately. "I'd be happy to work on Jane. And you live with Maura. Oh, this is a good plan. Maura is frustrated, and Jane is frightened of getting too close."

"Exactly. Besides, Maura isn't aware of all my tricks. And I'm sure you have more than a few up your sleeve."

Constance caught herself looking at her sleeveless dress, then smiled. Another Franglish moment.

Those two kids had no chance with both mothers united.

**A/N: Now this is absolutely it. No more. I have to make yard signs, go to forums, and get an editorial published.** **If I lose the Primary, there may be more.**


	4. Chapter 4

**What is Love, Anyway, Chapter 4**

**By Simahoyo**

After their little planning session, Constance used her cell phone to call her husband. His answer was quick. He obviously was still worried about her.

"Hi Benny Harbor. I'm at Maura's and I believe it would work better for you not to bring me home. I have a discussion I have to have with..."

"Maura? Or Jane?"

She laughed lightly. "You know me too well. Jane is my _conversation de coeur à coeur. _I'm not certain when she may arrive, but if there is a long delay, I will call a cab. And Benny, I love you."

He made kissing noises and hung up. Constance smirked slightly, and put the phone away.

Her luck was with her, as the door opened and both girls walked in. Their inability to refrain from touching each other reaffirmed the direction she would take. She arranged her face to look somewhat flustered. "Darling, your father had a tower go down*. He's not sure how long it may be. I could call a cab..."

Maura shot her a suspicious look. Constance raised an eyebrow, looked at Jane, and smiled sweetly. Maura's smile appeared and disappeared so fast, Constance was sure she was the only one to see it.

"I'd rather drive you home myself, Mom. You know what a terrible time you have getting in and out of cars."

It was Angela's turn. "But Maura, you promised to help me re-decorate my living room. I loved what you originally did with it, but I wanted to make it more me."

Maura turned to Jane, using her sweetest voice. "Jane, would you mine too much? I mean Angela has waited for weeks..."

Jane looked suspicious. She glared at her mother, covered it with a nod to Maura, and a tight smile at Constance. "Okay. It turned out not to be a homicide anyway. So, What the hell."

It took some effort, but Constance was soon installed in Jane's car. They drove towards Beacon Hill.

"You wanted to talk to me?" asked Jane.

"Yes, I do. I thought that this would be a situation where you couldn't run away." Jane looked angry enough, but Constance let it slide. She was an expert at arguing–in two languages. "I've noticed that you and my daughter really love each other."

"She's my best friend."

"And you would like to be more than friends."

Jane paled. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. "I'm not a lesbian." Her tone was final.

"A lesbian is a woman whose sexual interest is only in other women. Is that you?"

"God no. I was always oriented–is that the right word? to men. All my life people said I was a lesbian because I liked sports. Then I was a cop, and that uniform did nothing to make me look like a woman. God, I hated that word–lesbian. If I had been one, it would have been okay, I guess. "

"And yet, you love my daughter."

"Yes! Okay? How did it happen? I always thought she was straight. I mean, she sure had enough boyfriends. How the hell did this happen?"

"She's a very special young woman, as you pointed out to me at the gallery. She's a good fit with you. You complement each other."

"But, she's a woman, and we are both straight. She is, isn't she?"

"Yes. But, you seem to have changed her focus. She's interested."

Jane did a dangerous double take, wandering over the center line for a second. "What? I was afraid I'd mess up our friendship. She likes me back?"

Constance smothered a laugh at the reversion to high school thinking. Apparently Maura wasn't the only one who sounded younger with stress. "Yes. She's been hinting for weeks. Haven't you noticed?"

Jane's face colored. "I wondered, but everything she said could be taken other ways. Damn, she really wants me?"

"Oh yes. She really does. One thing to keep in mind is that the longer she waits, the more she respects and cares for you. If she didn't, she would have jumped you years ago."

Jane smirked. She was quiet for a while. Then she started tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. "I'm going to tell you something, and I really need you to keep it to yourself. That means not to tell Maura–_or my mother_. I, umm, I don't know how to...be with a woman."

Constance bit her tongue. "Neither does Maura."

"But she's a doctor. Wouldn't she know how stuff works. Otherwise it will be like a couple of kids fumbling–and I don't want to do that to her."

"What does Maura do when she wants to know something?"

"Do an autopsy. Kidding. She looks it up on Google." The light dawned. "Oh. Duh. I can use Google. At home. I get enough guff from the guys at work." She was quiet a moment. "I expect they'll give me the business about Maura, but the hell with them. She's worth it."

"Yes, she is. And we, her parents, both like you–very much."

"I always thought I might not be good enough for her, because I'm this cop and my dad is a plumber–and your family is classy and rich and stuff like that."

Constance had wanted this discussion. There were things Jane needed to know.

"Well, I was a little intimidated when I met Maura's father. He was a rich MBA student, and I was _une classe faible autochtones du Québec._ I worked at a tiny radio station and he used to listen late at night. He started calling in, then one night, he showed up. One thing lead to another and suddenly I went from this poor kid with a terrible accent to the wife of Edward Gwinnet Isles.

I went to Harvard, got an education, and Aleeza Doleettle' became Constance Isles."

"Jane lifted an eyebrow, then smirked. "So how did you used to sound, before?"

Constance hurried down memory lane, pursed her lips, thrust out her chin and set her hands in motion. "Merde. You want me to parle with you, peeg. I don't speak to the RMPC.. I don't geeve a loonie' what you want. I'm not a sneetch. _Je ne suis pas un mouchard._ Sorry Jane, I lived in a tough neighborhood. It was the first thing that came into my head."

Jane shook her head. "Wow. You've come a long way. You go up at the end of a lot of phrases. It that from French? And your hands were going a mile a minute."

"Yes, the French phrasing is more musical, I think. I took elocution lessons for years. Art professors don't say, 'shit', you know. And now you understand why the class difference means nothing. Your family is sweet, hard-working and very loving. That's what counts. You have your homework assignment, and I hope your get an A."

Jane chuckled. "Oh, I plan to."

* radio tower, which would put them off the air until it is fixed.


	5. Chapter 5

What is Love, Anyway, Chapter 5

By Simahoyo

A month had passed. Evenings were getting cooler. Constance had not seen Maura for several weeks, but the texts and emails had kept them in touch. Oddly, the subject was always her own health. Angela had heard little from Jane, who plead cold cases were taking over her life. Something was definitely up.

E.G. was fooling around with one of his cars. She was trying to read, " The Island Beneath the Sea", by Isabel Allende, but Allende demanded more attention than she was willing to give. Hobbes was nearby, because she still was a bit wobbly. Suddenly her mother sense came alive. Maura was nearby. There was a brief knock at the door, and the sound of a key opening it. Maura walked in, more relaxed than she had seen her in two years. Something had happened. Constance closed the book.

"Hi, Mom." Maura walked over and kissed her on the cheek. Constance let her hand rest on her daughter's shoulder.

"It's good to see you. You look good. Happy."

Maura sat close by, beaming. "God yes. Jane and I finally.." (here she sighed, and came close to giggling) "are a couple."

"Excellent."

"I know you said something to her. Whatever it was, thank you."

That was the moment that E.G. clomped in from the back still wearing his coveralls.

"Don't you dare come in here without changing, Benny Harbor!"

"Yes dear." Sounded defeated, but his cheeky grin ruined the effect. "Hi, Einstein."

He disappeared into their bedroom.

"Mom, where on earth does that nickname come from? I Googled, Binged, and Dogpiled. I couldn't find it."

Constance chuckled, remembering. "I worked in this tiny radio station, and I had late night, so I played whatever I liked. Apparently your father would listen as he worked on his charts and so forth for his MBA classes. It wasn't long before he started calling in with requests. Well, one night I discovered a series–comedy albums were very popular at the time, called, 'Chicken Man..'

I played it, and he phoned to tell me how much he loved it. It became a regular thing. I played it, and he called to discuss it."

"Yes, that 'white winged warrior spends his weekends striking terrific terror into the hearts of criminals everywhere as that fantastic fowl, Chickenman'.", put in E.G., now dressed in chinos and a golf shirt. His foul sneakers were replaced by clean loafers. Thank God.

Maura's brow furrowed. "And you liked that?"

"It's called camp, dear. It's mocking comic book heroes."

"Oh. Like the Batman television series. But, who is Benny Harbor?"

"Chickenman's daytime job was mild mannered Benton Harbor, shoe salesman in Midland City.", said E.G.

"Isn't that a little city in Michigan."

"Yes, but when he finally showed up at the station looking for me, he was wearing a white shirt–white wings, so to speak. I instantly dubbed him Benton Harbor, but he said, ' If we are going to spend as much time together as I'd like, call me Benny."

Maura laughed. Constance caught E.G.'s eye. He smirked. He knew.

"So, Kiddo, any news since that last time we saw you? It's been a while, you know."

Maura beamed. "Jane and I are a couple."

"A couple of what?" Trust Benny to go right for the pun.

"Oh, Daddy. I'm so happy."

His face worked. Constance knew it was hard for him to let go of his little girl, but suddenly he looked resolute. "You know what? I have something I need to do. This is permanent, right, you and Jane?"

Maura nodded, still in her happiness fog. E.G. took off for his office. They could hear thumping, papers being shuffled, and out he came with a small bundle of paper.

Constance was suspicious. "What is that?"

He looked straight at Maura. "It's my Shark List."

That got Maura's attention. "It has grown since I last saw it."

" I talked to a few of those men you have been dating. It was easy when they worked at the hospital. I just did it because know your are worthy of much better. I hoped you would find someone–and now you have. I'm so proud of you."

Maura wiped away a tear. Constance was close herself. She knew how hard this was for E.G.. Suddenly he turned, and headed out back again, calling over his shoulder, "Be right back."

More thumping. That man could never sneak up on anyone or thing. He came back in with his kindling. Heading to the fireplace, he set a fire, took the Shark List, and crumpled it, adding it as tinder. One strike of the long fireplace match and the list flamed up. Maura stood next to her father, then stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. Constance sat, enjoying her family. Pretty good for a poor kid from Quebec City.

The End


End file.
